15 THE. ßE.ST THINGS COME. IN SMALL P ACKAGE.S D INNER on Christmas Eve was a asteless affair, and it :vas a relIef to everyone when It was over. Judy Graves even forgot to ask if she could pick up her lamb chop to eat it, and she cut the meat from the bone and pushed the pieces indifferently around her plate with a fork. The feel- ing of anticipation that had carried her lightly along for the past two weeks had suddenly become concentrated and had settled like a cold, heavy weight in her stomach. She swallowed the last of her milk in a gulp. "I'll help Daddy bring the tree down," she offered. Mr. Graves pushed back his chair. "Yes," he said, "we might as well get started. " The tree had been selected three days before and carried to a corner of the apartment-house roof so that it would keep fresh in the cold air. Lois and her mother had carefully chosen it for its shape. Now, as Mr. Graves and Judy left the table, Lois spoke. "It isn't so awfully big. I mean it's not one of those mammoth things that Daddy usu- ally gets, but it's nice and thick and a lo-"uely shape. You'll see what I mean h . , " w en It s set up. There were a dozen or more trees on the roof. The air smelled of them. Judy hopefully glanced at the tag on the talle.st one. "I don't think this is it," she said. "This one has a long name on it." At the end of the row, in a corner protected from the wind, a small tree lay against the railing, its branches tied with string. "This must be it," Judy said. She pulled it upright and It swayed toward her. rrhe top branches touched her cheek and the scent of it filled her nostrils. She put her arms around it and held it close. "It isn't so very big," she said, defiant- ly, "but it's a beautiful little tree. A per- fectly beautiful little tree. I'll carry it. n They walked back toward the eleva- tor. Lois was waiting for them by the door, and she looked anxious. "It's dar- ling," Judy told her quickly. "It isn't small at all. There were some larg- er trees on the roof, but they looked scrawny. Really." She carried the tree to the living room and laid it on the clean sheet that had been spread between the windows. Her hands were sticky from the sap and dark green needles clung to her sweater. Lois's face lost its anxious look. She had slIpped a smock over her dress and it gave her an efficient appearance. "I ha ve sort of an idea," she said. "I think it might be unusual if we picked out just blue and silver ornaments and did the whole thing in blue and silver. I mean, there would be plenty of them because the tree is so much smaller." "Not use all the ornaments!" Judy exclaimed. "You're nuts!" "Oh," Mrs. Graves protested, "I think it would be better to use all the ornaments. We always have, and I'm fond of them." "Really," Lois said, "you all act like a lot of reactionaries. You just won't lis- . " ten to any new suggestIons, ever. Mr. Graves fastened the tree in its stand and cut the string from the branches. "I'll tell you what," he said. "\'Yhen you're eighteen, Lois, you can trim the tree the way you want it, and when Judy's eighteen, she can trim it the way she wants it. How's that?" He walked over to the table where the Christmas-tree ornaments lay in their boxes. Deliberately he chose a red-and- gold striped ball and hung it on the tree. His action stripped the authority from Lois and her smock and lifted the appre- hension from J ud y' s heart. "I'm going to put the cat face on for my first one," she said. I T took them over an hour to trim the tree and arrange the crèche on strips of cotton underneath it. Judy, kneeling to set a small celluloid rein- deer near a tiny pine tree, suddenly re- membered last year and how Bilgy, the cat that had died last summer, had knocked the whole scene over after they had arranged It. Her eyes smarted * ýJ VAl o o with tears and she shook her hair over to hide her face. "It does seem strange without one single toy," Mrs. Graves said sadly. "It really looks bare without any toys under the tree." " s k . f " L . d pea Ing 0 toys- OIS stoppe abruptly and giggled. "Speaking of toys what?" Judy asked. "Oh, notlì'ing," Lois told her. "You're too old for toys, of course." "\'Yhen I was twelve," Mrs. Graves said, "I was still playing with dolls." "Dolls!" Lois exclaimed. "Oh, Mother!" '" "It's living in New York," Mr. Graves said. "And that fool school." "\,Yell, get your stockings out, girls, and let's hang them," Mrs. Graves put in hurriedly. Lois's stocking was silk and slim, with a small foot, and Judy brought a wool knee-length sock with a darn in the toe. "Turn your back, Judy," Lois said. She slipped a small package into the toe of Judy's sock. "J ust weight them with the candle- sticks," Mrs. Graves told them. "I'll fix them later." She went to her room and came back with her arms full of packages. "No pok- ing at these," she said. The Cogswell chair was for Judy's things, the wing chair for Lois's, and the couch for 1\;1r. and Mrs. Graves' pres- ents. Until thIs year Judy's chair had been almost empty, as her toys had been arranged under the tree after she had gone to bed. This year her chair looked the same as Lois's. Judy, glancing at the packages, wondered if the biggest one could be the jade-green lounging pa- J amas. She got the gifts for her father, moth- er, and Lois from the shelf in her clos- et. She had bought her father a gadget called a Scotch Bartender, which meas- ured an exact jigger of whiskey, and a practIcal and charming present for her mother. It was an ashtray, and attached to it was a frog's head. You inserted a cigarette in a place in the mouth, and the ashes fell in the tray. A silk-covered rubber tube extended from the inside of the frog's head and ended in a dainty amber cigarette holder. The idea of the whole thing was to be able to smoke in bed without fear of dropping ashes on the blankets and perhaps going up in flames. For Lois, she had bought a pair of red gloves fastened at the back with a gilt Christmas bell. She had wrapped her packages with care and covered thelTI with stickers that called out, "Season's G . '" ' J N O. 1 " " M reetIngs, oyeux oe , erry